The Only Exception
by hiding-in-the-alley
Summary: Malfoys and Weasleys don't mix. They're like oil and water. They lie, fight and break each others hearts, over and over again. But Rose and Scorpius think they can change this. Could they be the only exception?
1. Platform 9 and 34: The Next Generation

The Only Exception

**Platform 9 and ****3/4****: The Next Generation**

"Dad?" I looked up at my father, but his attention was diverted. I followed his intense gaze to the family that had just emerged from the fog onto the platform.

There was a boy infront of them, pushing his trolley with an air of arrogance, amplified by his cocky grin and infuriating swagger. But as he looked around the platform at the other children and reached up to stroke his Griffindor tie, his grin faded and a flash of nervousness flickered across his face. I smirked. My strange ability to "read" people had always amused me. The boy was wearing a bold mask of confidence to hide the faded lines of shyness that lay underneath in the dark.

Behind him were four others. A man with messy black hair and glasses, a woman with bright red hair, and their miniature copies. The boy was pushing a trolley, looking around him with awe and a slight green tint that reminded me of sea sickness. He looked much more likeable, and going by the nervousness, it was his first year too. The girl had ridiculously red hair, and was sitting on her brother's trolley, kicking her legs and wiggling her fingers through the bars of a ferret's cage. She looked around nine, and was probably just there to see her brothers off.

I looked back to my father, who's eyes where glued to the woman. There was a small, sad smile on his face, as if he was remembering happy times long forgotten. He knelt down to my height, still watching the strange red head.

"See that lady? The one with the fire shooting from her head instead of hair?" Dad chuckled softly, "Her name's Ginny. Ginny Weasley." He made a face. "Well, it's Potter now."

My head snapped back round to view the family, the man in particular.

"Potter? As in Harry Potter?" My jaw dropped open, and Dad grimaced.

"Yes yes, _the _Harry Potter. Defeated the Dark Lord, saved the entire wizarding and muggle world _and_ got the girl. It's like something out of a bloody movie." His tone turned sour, and I remembered his fathers refusal to tell me the story of how Voldemort fell, and the house elfs excitement when I asked her instead.

"Sorry Dad." I mumbled and my fathers eyes trailed back to Ginny, who was now talking to a brunnete. His eyes turned shiny and the sad smile came back.

"I remember when I used to fancy her. Never got so far as saying hello before Hermoine Granger would rush over and drag her off because Harry was looking for her. That's Hermione there. Smartest witch I ever met! I still feel bad about calling her a mudblood you know." He sighed. "She married Ginny's brother. One of six!" He frowned. "Sorry, five. All with the same flaming hair."

He sighed wistfully, and looked as if he was about to launch into another story, but my grandmother interrupted him.

"Oh look, there's Claire! Her grandson's starting this year too! Draco dear, I'm off to catch up with her, try not to depress poor Scorpius with your wistful tales of woe." My lively grandmother flashed me a grin and ruffled my hair, before pushing her way through the rapidly thickening crowd as I tried in vain to flatten the mess that was now my hair.

It wasn't always like this for our family. I can't remember, but Dad told me how things used to be. I was born prematurely, and unfortunatley, it resulted in the death of my mother. My father was devastated, and the death of my grandfather didn't exactly cheer him up. But Grandma had had enough, and she said this was no enviroment to be raising a child in, speaking from experience. Dad's hardly a barrel of laughs. She refused to let herself or her son be weighed down and depressed like they had been during the war. It was over, and they were finally free, so where was the point in chaining themselves up?

Dad told me he didn't want to let my mothers spirit die, but I'm forever catching him spending entire days stuck in his office, leaving me to my own devices, or sighing wistfully at her portrait. He always tells me I'm just like her; free, unique and stupidly reckless. I may have inherited my fathers platinum blonde locks, but it tousles if someone so much as grazes it, and my eye's are a bright green, unlike Dads steely grey orbs. If I'm so much like her, surely this couldn't be how he acted when she was alive? He let her go, another regret to add to the despairing collection.

Dad finally snapped himself out of his daydream and slowly dragged my trunk off the platform and onto the train. I glanced around me again, my sweaty hand clamped around the handle of Hamartia's wicker basket. I carefully opened the lid and peered in to check on my strange cat. Her hazel eyes gleamed through the darkness at me, and she shifted around so I could see she was fine. I reached in to stroke her purple tipped ears and she closed her eyes, purring happily. I smiled as I remembered when I got her.

One grey and drizzly afternoon when I was ten, my father had stupidly left his wand lying around in his back pocket, and I had spent a couple of hours attempting to dye my hair black when Grandma told me her burmese cat had had her kittens. She showed me the litter down in the kitchen, and I had taken a fancy to the smallest one. She was different from the others, because while they all had the gorgeous bluey gray coat burmese cats are famed for and were a healthy weight, Hamartia was plain black and scrawny. Grandma thought it was a small fur mutation, and had left to make a potion for her. But I didn't want her to be like the others, I wanted her to be different. So, just to make sure Grandma knew she was mine, I tried dying the tips of her ears green. But it didn't go quite as planned, and it came out purple instead.

My father reappeared with an old friend, and I looked up again, scanning the crowd. All of a sudden, a bright red flash flitted across my line of vision, and I followed it to a gap in the crowd. It was a man with ginger hair, talking animatedly with Harry Potter, who had his hand on his younger sons shoulder. Beside him was the brunnete witch my father had pointed out as Hermione, and I remembered what he had said about how she married Ginnys brother. Well, he definatley had the same hair. As I watched, the ginger man turned around to talk to someone behind him, but all I was granted was yet another streak of red before my father pulled me away.

"Come on Scorpius, or the train will leave without you!"

My grandmother appeared again, still calling behind her to Claire. She stepped forward to give me a hug, and quickly pressed a small fat bag of coins into my hand, smiling mischeaviously. She knew my father had only given me five galleons for the whole month, and she knows I have a sweet tooth. That sweet trolley wont know what's hit it!

"Now you work hard! Be nice! Remember to feed Hamartia! Brush your teeth, I'll write every Saturday! Behave yourself, no pranks!" Similar conversations were echoing around the platform as the final students boarded the train. Grandma smiled and ruffled my hair once more before stepping back, pulling a white hanky from her pocket.

I slid the bag into my coat pocket, and Dad kneeled to my level, looking me dead in the eyes.

"Look Scorpius," He started, "I'm sorry if I've got you interested in the Weasleys and the Potters with my old stories- don't look at me like that I saw you watching them! Anyway, don't get mixed up with them." He lowered his eyes to the ground. "Because of me, it's very likely they'll take an instant dislike to you if you so much as say hi to them." He looked back up at me, searching my face to make sure I understood. "Weasleys and Potters might be the heros of the wizarding world, but they hate Malfoys. They shot me down, crushed me, made my life a misery and broke my heart, just because of who my father was. I don't want that to happen to you." His eyes took on a deserate, pleading look.

"Promise me, Scorpius. Promise me you'll stay away from the Weasleys. And the Potters."

"I promise," I said quietly. My father smiled. "Good boy."

I looked around. The platform was almost empty. I threw my arms around him one last time and jumped onto the train. I miraculously managed to find an empty cart, and I threw myself at the window.

The train shuddered into life and someone blew a whistle. I opened the slot at the top of the window and waved at my family.

"Bye!"

The train was now pulling away from the station, slowly gathering speed. I watched my fathers face as we sped towards the tunnel, and just before the darkness swallowed me up, I swore I could have seen a single tear slip down his cheek.


	2. Death Eater Dad

So, hey guys :)

I forgot to put an intro on the last chapter, and I couldn't be arsed changing it, so tough shit.

But I'm here now!

So, welcome to The Only Exception! I normally write Gwuncan (Total Drama World Tour) fics, this is my first Harry Potter fic, third overall. I really hope you guys like it!

To avoid confusion, I have changed my name since last chapter. Gwuncan Girl 94 is now hiding-in-the-alley, which is also my tumblr name, if any of you guys want to send me an ask or follow me :)

Credits go to Paramore for the title idea.

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

* * *

The Only Exception

Death Eater Dad

I tore off my large black coat and threw it on the seat across from me. I leant back against the worn seat and breathed in the homey scent. It was almost earthy, but more clean. The butterflies in my stomach exploded at the unfamiliar scent, and I almost vomited over Hamartia's basket.

The train lurched suddenly and my door slid open. I stood to close it, but the train shook again, and I fell to the floor, Hamartia's basket landing on top of me. An indignant yowl told me she wasn't too pleased. I groaned and stood up.

"Sorry princess," I fiddled with the clasp and she jumped out, surveying the carriage with a curious look on her feline features. I snorted.

"curiosity killed the cat you know." Hamartia glared back at me, clearly unimpressed. She continued to examine the compartment, until she seemed to decide it would suffice and leapt into my lap.

I chuckled and scratched her purple ears, earning a happy pur and a claw in my leg as she tried to get comfortable. She finally settled down and I continued to pet her.

I looked out of the window at the passing fields and began to day-dream. I started to worry. What if no-one liked me? What if my fathers past was too much for some people? I would be the loner with the Death Eater Dad. The outcast. Dad changed his ways when he fell in love with my mother, whose father was a member of the Order of The Phoenix, and became an Auror. But some people still judged him for what he used to be. I needed to be carefull. A nightmare formed and lodged itself in my chest.

I was passing through a hallway packed with faceless shadows, but completely alone. Someone pointed at me openly as I passed and whispered something unintelligible to another, which laughed silently. The corridor seemed to shrink with the growing laughter, the sides pressing in and pushing me into the shadows. Smaller, closer, until I was crouching, and still it compressed me until I could hardly breathe...

The train jolted again, pulling me out of my dream. Suddenly, Hamartia opened her gleaming eyes.. She sniffed the air once, twice. Her head snapped around to see the open door, and before I could grab her, she had bolted into the corridor.

"Hamartia!" I chased after her, almost knocking into some bemused older students as I raced past. "Come back!" The strange cat ignored me and continued down the corridor. I ran a bit faster, wanting to catch her before she did something stupid like jump off the train. A large caramel coloured cat appeared out of nowhere, making a beeline for Hamartia. She veered left and greeted it eagerly, sniffing and purring. I stopped, completely dumbstruck. Did cats have a built-in navigation charm for each other or something?

"Frankie, you cretin!" I looked up to see a young girl, presumably the owner of the other cat. She was young, pale and small, dressed simply in jeans and a green hoodie. She had large hazel eyes, framed by thick, dark lashes. Her rosebud lips were frowning cutely underneath her small nose, dusted with freckles. But what struck me most of all was her hair.

Cascading down her back in wild curls, was the most vibrant, glossy red hair had ever seen. And I had seen a lot of red heads that morning!

"Sorry about that," Her voice snapped me back to reality, "He's a little adventurous." She had picked up ...Frankie, was it? And was cradling him lovingly. I gave her a sheepish grin and scooped up Hamartia, trying desperately to look taller and cooler.

"Don't worry about it, Hamartia can be quite a handful as well!" The girl beamed, and I smiled unsurely in return.

"That's a pretty name! Whatever it means..." I laughed, but it came out slightly strangled. I cleared my throat.

"It, uh, a hamartia is an imperfection. It's 'cause of her fur, she's a Burmese, you know, the breed, but her fur was black instead of blue-gray, and then I tried to turn the tips of her ears green, but it came out purple 'cause it was my Dad's wand and I didn't know any magic, and, uh-" Your babbling, my mind screamed! Just stop talking, _now_!

I wasn't sure how to act. I only had a couple of friends growing up, and I had known them since birth. I didn't know how to "make" friends. I knew the basics, be nice, smile and say hi. But something about this girl completely threw me off. She was different.

The girl raised an eyebrow, smirking. Wether that was in a good or bad way, I wasn't sure. She smiled at me again, and I made a snap decision, smiling widely back. It seemed to work.

"This is Frankie, and I'm Rose." The girl said. I held Hamartia with one hand and extended my other for her to shake.

"I'm Scorpius." Her grin didn't falter as she shook my hand. "Nice to meet you." Hamartia struggled and let out a pathetic mewl from my arms. Rose laughed quietly and looked down.

"Looks like we'll have to meet again." She murmured. I followed her gaze and saw Hamartia and Frankie craning their necks towards each other. I laughed again, and this time it came out normally, thank Merlin.

Rose took a step forward, so the two cats could reach each other. Hamartia stopped squirming and happily nuzzled Frankie, who purred contentedly. Rose giggled, and I grinned at her. She was inches away from me, watching our two cats nuzzle and lick each other. I smiled to myself. Scorpius, I thought, you've just made a friend.

I heard Rose talking, but it wasn't addressed at me. I groggily pulled myself awake and saw that she was talking to a boy behind her. I looked at him and recognised him as one of Potter's sons, the younger one.

"You alright Rosie?" He was leaning out of a compartment, concern on his face.

"Yeah Albus, I'll be back in a minute." I stared at Rose in complete amazement until Albus left and she turned back around.

"That was... you know," The filter between my mouth and mind must have taken a day off, and my jumbled thoughts tumbled out onto the carpet before I could shut my mouth.

"... Harry Potters son?" Finished Rose. She had that smirk back in place, the eyebrow raised, one hand on her hip. She let out a laugh. "Yup. He's also my cousin, unfortunately." She tickled Frankie's ear as I slowly put two and two together. I felt the smile slip off my face, turning to a pile of gloop on the floor as my small bubble of happiness collapsed in on itself.

"So.. you're..."

"A Weasley," Grinned Rose, "And bloody proud!" I didn't return her smile.

"Oh," Was all I could muster. Worry flickered across her face.

"Something wrong Scorpius?" I looked into her hazel eyes and decided I couldn't hide this. I dropped my head and studied the floor.

"My father told me to stay away from Weasleys. And Potters." I couldn't even look at her. Wow, weren't my shoes interesting. Scruffy black converse. fascinating. _Look at her you idiot!_

When I did look up, I saw Rose, still there and completely not bothered.

"You always do what Daddy tells you, Scorpy?" She laughed. I failed to laugh with her. Rose looked me in the eye, and then at the rest of my face, my platinum hair, my small nose, my pointed chin.

"Hang on," She started." Scorpius? Scorpius Malfoy?" I dropped my head again.

"Yeah."

"Well, isn't that a shame." I looked up at her miserably. Was she gonna walk away and leave me now like everyone else on this train probably will when they find out who I am? Wait, why was she smiling? "My father told me to stay away from Malfoys." She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess I'm gonna be grounded!" I burst into a huge grin to match that on Rose's face.

"You don't mind?"

"Not in the slightest. I like you, Scorpius. You're pretty cool." My heart skipped a beat and I felt the bubble return. "Besides," She continued, "I don't think Romeo here would ever forgive me if I didn't let him see his Juliet."

I didn't have a clue who Romeo and Juliet were, but I think she was talking about the cats.

"Well then, it looks like we'll just have to be friends." I observed.

"So it would seem." Rose smiled, "Wanna come and meet the rest of the gang?" She gestured to the compartment behind her.

Well, I thought, if Rose doesn't mind about my Dad, the rest couldn't be that bad. I just had to make a good impression. Maybe Dad was wrong...

"Sure, just let me grab my stuff." I turned around and ran back up the hall. I found my cabin, unceremoniously shoved Hamartia into her basket, grabbed my other bag and coat and ran back out. Rose was still standing outside the cabin, waiting for me.

"Come on in," She said, sliding open the door. A ripple of laughter washed into the corridor, bathing me in it's welcoming warmth.

"Guys, meet Scorpius," The compartment fell silent. "Scorpius, meet the family."

"Got a boyfriend already Rosie?" Teased a dark-skinned boy with short reddish-brown hair. My "reading" talent kicked in immediately. He was a joker, obviously. An older blonde girl laughed, looking up from her hand-held mirror.

"That's my girl!" She said proudly. Pretty, vain, blonde, but somehow I doubted she was an airhead.

"Oi!" I looked around to see Harry's older son frowning at me. "I don't remember giving my consent for my little cousin to be," He paused and narrowed his eyes at me. "Courting."

Rose snorted, "Like I'd ask in the first place!" A girl with short dark red hair and a purple scarf snickered. Rose grinned at her and continued. "Anyway, he's not my boyfriend, he's just a friend."

"Oh good gracious!" An older girl with golden brown curls made us all jump. "I'm five minutes late for my meeting with Derek! Must go, bye everyone!" She dashed out of the compartment, lugging her briefcase along behind her.

"That," Stated Rose, "Was Molly. I apologise for her pompousness. I'm not sure where in the family that came from..." She began introducing the rest. "These are just some of my cousins, the rest of the clans not old enough for Hogwarts yet."

"The twins are Fred and Roxy, they're in third year," The dark-skinned boy and his identical sister nodded and smiled. "The blonde is Victoire, she's in sixth year at the moment. Her little sister and complete opposite is Dominique." The blonde simply waved and pulled out her mascara, while the girl with short rusty hair grinned.

"'Sup?" I grinned at her use of the muggle term. She looked fun, if a little strange.

"Dom's gonna be starting with us this year. So will Albus." The younger of Harry's two sons stood up and shook my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Scorpius." But before I could reply, he was pushed out of the way by Harry's other son.

"James." He said shortly. "James Potter. Sorry, what was your name again?" He looked slightly wary of me. I wasn't sure why. Maybe he thought I looked like someone. Like a certain Death Eater his father had defeated...

"Scorpius Malfoy."

The cabin was still. Victoire had stopped applying make-up, the twins ceased their elbowing and James' face was stoney.

"Right then." He gave a strained smile. "Nice to meet you." He glanced at his watch. "Oops, gotta go find Duncan, I'll see you around."

I wasn't sure if he genuinely had to leave, or if he was just making excuses, but Victoire followed suit.

"Oh, there's Jenna. See you losers later!" I felt my eyebrows shoot up at the soft french accent as Victoire darted out of the cabin after a tall brunette in a pastel pink mini-skirt. Rose shuddered at the length of the garment and Dom gagged.

"Oi, Jenna," yelled Dom "You do know you're supposed to wear something for the belt to keep up, right?" Victoire bit her lip, the laughter in her eyes clear. Jenna, however, glared icily at the younger girl. She opened her mouth, hands on her hips, but Victoire stopped her.

"Leave it, Jen. She's just being a pest."

Jenna huffed and spun on her heel, shooting daggers over her shoulder at Dominique as she tried to storm away dramatically, but failing when she tripped over and almost broke her ankle in her ridiculous high heels. Dom smirked successfully.

Victoire grinned and shook her head at her sister quickly, before following Jenna down the corridor.

Well, at least they were being polite in their excuses.

"Don't mind them," Said Rose, "They're just being stupid." She smiled encouragingly at me and flung herself on the leather seat next to the window while I closed the door. I sat down next to her, placing Hamartia's basket next to me. Frankie immediately leapt up onto the seat and began yowling at the cage.

"Is it ok if I let her out?" I asked, looking up.

"Go ahead," Chorused Rose and Albus. I flicked open the latch and Hamartia was met by a loud squeal from Dominique.

"She is _adorable! _Look at those ears!" She gushed, rushing forward and kneeling down beside the seat. Dominique carefully reached her hand out, and Hamartia regarded it disdainfully, giving it a cautious sniff or two.

"Does she bite?" Dominique asked softly, and for the first time I heard a faint french accent whispering behind the rough british tones. I shook my head in answer and Dom gently stroked Hamartia, tickling her behind the ears. After the carefull way she treated my cat, I decided that I definitely liked Dom.

I lifted Hamartia's now empty basket onto the luggage rack above our heads along with my plain black messenger bag and the stupidly large coat Dad had insisted on.

"Hey," said Fred, "I thought the Malfoys were stinking rich. How come you're not all dressed up in armano?"

"Fred!" Roxy hit him over the head with the Quibbler she was reading. "Don't be so rude! And it's Armani, you prat!" He had a point though. I was wearing a pair of plain grey jeans and a black t-shirt. Simple and comfortable.

Fred waved off her comment. "What ever. Can we get back to my question now?"

I laughed at their squabbling; it was really quite adorable. Roxy opened her mouth to say something again, but I interrupted her.

"Please, Roxy," I smiled at her, "I don't mind," I turned back to Fred, who was leaning forward in his seat, pressing his finger tips together and looking at me curiously. I laughed and copied him. He looked a little taken aback at first, but he held his stance.

"It's quite simple really," I started, "I take after my Mum. I don't really like fancy things, or dressing up. If it's a special occasion, sure. But I'd much rather wear jeans and t-shirts." Fred nodded and leaned back in his seat, arms behind his head and a warm smile on his face.

"Cool. If you're not a prat, it'll be easier to get along with you."

Around 10 minutes later the twins disappeared to find their own friends, and it was just the four of us. We passed the journey asking questions about each other and laughing at the answers we received. By the time the sweet trolley passed around, we were firm friends.

They knew about my Dad, and they didn't care. My rock solid nightmare crumbled and swept itself into a dusty corner of my mind, completely forgotten. I had found friends.

* * *

D'awww! Sweet, isn't it? Maybe a little too sweet... We'll soon fix that ;)

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review, it makes my day! :)

hiding-in-the-alley


	3. We'll Be Fine

Uh... Hi...

So yeah, I'm not actually dead. Sorry about that. I've been incredibly busy with... uh... yeah I've been doing absolutely nothing. I'm a horribly lazy person, and I'm genuinely sorry.

Disclaimer: I wouldn't be writing this if I owned Harry Potter. I do own a Sorting Hat bag though. Does that count?

* * *

The Only Exception

We'll Be Fine

The sharp rap of knuckles on glass interrupted our laughter, and I looked up to see Molly peering through the pane. She slid the door open and I could see that she was now dressed in the heavy black Hogwarts robes, adorned with a Gryffindor crest.

"We'll be arriving at Hogsmeade in 30 minutes, you lot should have got your uniform on ages ago!" Hands on her hips, Molly looked more like a teacher than a student.

I tugged my bag off the luggage rack and pulled out my carefully folded robes. They had been a little crumpled from when I had been throwing my bag around, but they were still reasonably neat. A Hogwarts shield stood out proudly from the black. *I was told at Madame Malkins that you were given jumpers, ties and cloaks with your house symbol at Hogwarts, once you knew what house you were in. But the standard uniform was just a plain Hogwarts logo.

"There's a bathroom just down at the end of this carriage where you can get changed. Hurry up, everybody else is ready!"

Albus and I hurried down the narrow corridor until we came to a door marked "Mens". I slid the door open and stopped short.

The room should have only been the same size as a compartment, but it was huge! Five gleaming stalls, a row of porcelain basins, five urinals and a couple of shower cubicles were spaced out around the luxurious bathroom. I was expecting a toilet and a sink with paper towels, not expensive smelling soap and fluffy white towels!

"What's the hold up mate? C'mon, Molly said to hurry!" Albus gently pushed me forward and shaking my head, I headed for a stall. I changed quickly, attempting (and mostly failing) not to drown in the billowing black robes. I managed to push my head and arms through the correct parts and crumpled up my jeans and t-shirt in a ball.

Suddenly, it hit me with the force of a bludgeon going at one hundred miles per hour.

This was completely real. This was going to be my future for the next seven years.

I, Scorpius Lucuis Malfoy, was going to Hogwarts School Of Witch Craft And Wizardry. The legendary magic school that has produced some of the smartest, bravest and generally _epic_ wizards and witches in all of history!

Oh good Godric.

This would not end well.

With shaking hands I unbolted the pristine white door and stumbled over to the sinks. Albus wasn't ready yet, and from the muffled curses I could hear coming from the stall at the other end of the row, he was having the same difficulty not suffocating in the many million folds of thick black cotton as I had.

For some reason (probably magic) the train wasn't rocking back and forward in here, but I felt no calmer. I braced myself against the basin and glared at myself in the mirror. Against the dark of the robes my skin looked paler than ever, and it might have been my imagination, but I swear it was tinged green. The rock from earlier had firmly lodged itself back in my stomach, and it seemed to have brought a friend, who has now sitting in my throat.

There was a thud behind me, followed by a click, and Albus appeared beside me in the mirror. I studied the sink below me, not wanting him to see me freaking out. He'd think I was an absolute idiot.

"Bloody massive robes, I don't see how James can go swanning around in them all the time..." Albus stopped short, noticing my discomfort despite my best efforts. "You ok Scorpius?"

With a deep breath I lifted my pounding head to look at him, only to see the exact same mixture of nausea and worry on Albus' face. I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile.

"Yeah. Fine." We were in the same boat. Terrified first years trying not to vomit on their new robes. Albus returned my smile, and I saw the panic in his eyes ease a little. We were going to be fine.

* * *

*I'm actually not sure how they do the first year robes in Madam Malkins if they don't know the houses until you're actually there, so I kinda improvised. Did that work? Actually, if anybody know's how the uniforms are worked out, could you possibly send me a wee message to explain for future references? Ta very much.

I promise the break in between chapters won't be as long this time! I'm on my summer holidays now, so I should have plenty of time.

AN: hiding-in-the-alley is no longer my tumblr name. If you wanna follow me my url is its-skip-bitch. I post mostly utter shite, so don't say I didn't warn you.

hiding-in-the-alley


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